The Magic in the Moments
We were snowed in for several days this week. When we went to bed on Saturday night, it was with the anticipation of waking up to snow.
We were snowed in for several days this week. When we went to bed on Saturday night, it was with the anticipation of waking up to snow.
I heard someone this week state “Mood follows action.” It reminded me of a saying we often used when I was leading change projects in my former life in banking: “You can’t think your way into a new way of acting. You have to act your way into a new way of thinking.”
Today, I’m sharing an excerpt from my upcoming book Dancing the Tightrope, The Gift of Pressure, Uncertainty and Failure. The book chronicles my three-year journey of getting back on the horse after a bad accident. In the ensuing three years, what I thought would be a journey about learning to ride horses became instead a catalyst to raise my pressure threshold, to operate more in the present moment and yes, to get back on the horse.
If we have learned anything over the last two years, it’s that we have less control than we would like to have. Think about it. How many times have you wished COVID 19 away? How many times have you wanted to get someone to take the same actions you have to address the pressures and uncertainties we are living with? How many times have you thought or said “When all of this is over, I’m going to…”?
So far, this Christmas is not going as planned. This is our second year not going home to Texas to spend Christmas with family. For over 20 years, we’ve had a well-oiled machine for the season. Land at DFW Airport. Head straight to my brother’s house to bake cookies. Take a long walk with my sister-in-law to work off the calories from the cookies. Eat more cookies. Find and wrap all the presents shipped to their house. Eat more cookies. Run last minute errands. Eat more cookies. Ride horses at Marshall Creek. Eat more cookies. Go play at the local climbing gym. Eat more cookies. Make sure we have all the food for Christmas dinner. And on and on.
When I was learning to ride my bike as a child, the huge moment came the day my Dad took off the training wheels. I would finally get to be like the other big kids! In my kid brain, I thought it would be a simple matter of getting on and doing what I had done so many times before, only like a grown up. Not even close.
It took many falls and skinned knees until the moment of cheating occurred. I would get on, try to pedal and before the other foot could make the circle, the bike would fall over. I became acutely aware of just how much those training wheels had held me up.
When I was learning to ride my bike as a child, the huge moment came the day my Dad took off the training wheels. I would finally get to be like the other big kids! In my kid brain, I thought it would be a simple matter of getting on and doing what I had done so many times before, only like a grown up. Not even close.
It took many falls and skinned knees until the moment of cheating occurred. I would get on, try to pedal and before the other foot could make the circle, the bike would fall over. I became acutely aware of just how much those training wheels had held me up.
Sometimes, people really are trying to make things personal. In my book The Elegant Pivot, An Inspired Move for Navigating Corporate Politics, the most challenging character I describe is Fighting Francis. As much as we wish it weren’t so, the FF’s in the world really are out to get us. There may be no better
Originally posted Nov. 18 2018 In the last 10 years, I’ve had the privilege of sitting in deep conversation with hundreds of people working in Corporate America. When the shields are down and the corporate façade comes off, almost everyone shares one secret in common: they fear failure, especially when operating in the pressure gap.
What is the difference between expressing emotion and feeling emotion? This question has come up in various ways over the last couple of weeks, and in trying to explain the difference to a client, I found myself seeing more shades of gray than black and white. Feeling is good – but feeling too much can